A Third Chance
by zeurin
Summary: You want to know the difference between us and machines? We bury our dead." Is it really over? Blair's thoughts and feelings burying Marcus. Oneshot Blair/Marcus


I watched Terminator Salvation a couple of weeks ago and I couldn't get the relationship between Marcus and Blair out of my head! I don't even know how this little story sprung up, but it did and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out. Enjoy! :)

* * *

_You want to know the difference between us and machines? _

_We bury our dead. _

Those words echoed through Kyle Reese's head as he put all his effort behind thrusting the shovel into the hard, compact ground. He clenched his jaw tightly. Each dull sound of impact the metal made against the dirt was met with the equal, if not more forceful, sound of Blair's shovel working next to him.

_We bury our dead._

He swung the heavy shovel over his shoulder to dump behind him. His arms were aching, unused to this amount of stress. But time was running out. Once Connor awakened from his successful operation, they'd have to go back to base. They only had an hour or so to say their good-byes. Ignoring the fatigue in his arms and chest, Kyle gritted his teeth and dug in harder.

Barnes and a tall, bulky Latino man, named Rodriguez, had volunteered to dig the grave as they would be fastest. Kyle and Blair had advertently protested. Let them have this one luxury of doing something for him for once. He, who had done so much for them with nothing in return.

Blair furiously slammed her blade into the ground, blinking away the tears forming in her eyes. She wouldn't think those thoughts. There was a reason why she volunteered to do this; the agony of her overexerted muscles would distract her from reality. If she were to just sit there and watch, she wouldn't be able to take it. And all her hard-earned credibility would be lost if they saw her cry.

Finally, the job was done. Instead of waiting to see them drag the limp corpse and stack him under, Blair flung her shovel away from her and stormed off. They stared after her. But they didn't realize that what seemed like anger hid the flood of tears.

_We bury our dead._

***

They had finished burying him. A clean mound of fresh dirt sat where the hole used to be, his lifeless corpse hidden under the soil. Dirty, ragged flowers lay spread across the makeshift grave, courtesy of Star's hard work.

The group of people standing in a circle around his grave was dead silent, their heads bowed for the moment of silence. A few had already given a couple words of respect. It was over. Connor had awakened minutes ago. All the planes were packed and ready to go. But where was-?

At that very second, Blair Williams came stomping in. Her black curls were wild splayed across her back and her breathing was heavy. No one dared ask what she was doing alone by herself in the wilderness. The red, puffiness of her eyes, clearly visible, even under her face paint, was reason enough. She stopped before the freshly turned pile of dirt, attempting to catch her breath. Everyone waited.

"Marcus was a good _man,_" She emphasized the word. Surprisingly, her voice wasn't breathless and shaky. It was strong and slow. "The best I'd ever known…" She bit her lip, "He deserved a third chance." And with that, she turned sharply on her heel to head back to her plane. She slipped her helmet and goggles on before anyone could see a tear slip.

***

"Williams," Connor said, barely looking up from his computer, "Barnes said you wanted to see me?"

Her posture was impeccable; her spine a straight line and her face blank. However, Connor did not like the intense way she was staring at the strong heart pulsing in his chest. She barely looked at his face anymore. Connor wondered how she felt about him now.

"I was scouting the land like you requested, sir." He noticed how she hadn't removed her flight suit. "But I spotted human civilians trapped in the desert a couple hundred miles north of base. They were begging for help, sir. I know their coordinates. I can send Wayne for help and we can bring-"

Connor sighed and pushed his computer away from him, "Williams, I understand your intentions, but we cannot take in anymore refugees at this time. We're running low on supplies and unless they can contribute militarily, I'm afraid we just can't take them."

Her jaw clenched fractionally, "It was a young, all female group of three, sir. I doubt there's much they can contribute."

"Then, I'm sorry, Williams. You're just going to have to leave them."

Her posture straightened more than it seemed humanely possible, "The only difference between us and machines, sir, is compassion… We make sacrifices for each other." Here she stared at the stolen organ in his chest.

Connor tried not to wince. Guilt flooded him and he felt his resolve fly out of the air. Slowly, he exhaled and pinched the bridge between his eyes. "Take the chopper," he sighed before returning to his work.

***

Star really didn't know what to do with herself lately. Well, it was nice not having to be in constant fear for her life, and hot water and meat other than coyote were added bonuses, but Kyle was busy all the time now. There was a lack of strong, healthy young men not missing an eye or leg and he was constantly scouting around or being taught how to use a hand grenade by Barnes. Sure, the women were nice, and it was interesting watching them make homemade soaps, or cook to feed them all, but it was dull after a while. In some way, Star actually missed running for her life.

Where were all the children in this base? Kyle was the person closest to her age here and he was a good decade older than her. So, with this lack of entertainment, Star had to find her fun elsewhere.

Which is why, now, at three in the morning, Star escaped from the room she shared with some nice, middle-aged woman and currently ran through the deserted halls, exploring the base in moonlight. It was all so fascinating. There was the occasional man or woman up, but Star easily blend in the shadows before they could take notice of her. Now, what to do? She thought about stealing some of the weird squishy, but sweet stuff Mrs. Forbes called, "Jello," but decided she wasn't hungry. She never seemed to be concerned about her stomach anymore, which was a nice change from the normal pace of things. She then decided that climbing into the interior of one of the giant planes they carried her here in would be more exciting… Only one problem; they were located outside the base, in an above-ground garage-type storage room.

Without thinking about the consequences, which never seemed to affect her, Star skipped down the hall to the nearest exit. Before her hand could meet the door, she heard a faint, metallic banging sound from somewhere far beyond the door. A normal person wouldn't have been able to hear, but Star wasn't a normal person. Her ears had long sharpened since her birth in this post-apocalyptic world.

Walking around during the middle of the night to answer the door for what was most probably some evil machine just waiting to terminate them all was not a good idea. Kyle had drilled into her brain since birth that safety was always the main priority. But, for some reason, Star felt no fear at all as she pushed aside the heavy metal door with much effort. Her sixth sense hadn't gone off. And that sense was always accurate. How else could she have survived these eight long years with the rather juvenile Kyle Reese?

There was no danger… But Star had to admit that it was beyond creepy. Beyond the door was a long, what seemed like endless stretch of hallway, from the underground base to the surface. She had to grip on to the cold, steel rail as she slowly trudged down the hall way, managing not to trip over her own feet by the dim light of the fluorescent green strip across the walls that bathed the hall in eerie green shadows.

After what felt like an eternity, Star reached the end of the hall where it was visibly colder than the inside of the building, judging by the slight frost across the cracks at the top and bottom of the giant steel door blocking the elements. The pounding sound had long faded, but Star knew that whatever she was looking for lay right outside. A couple of days ago, she had followed her "roommate" out to this very exit and watched her punch in the right code at the side of the door to exit. Alarms would blare otherwise, alerting the entire camp. She was surprised they didn't go off already from the knocking outside. Perhaps it wasn't strong enough to make an impact, like a robot would have. Besides, the wind was howling pretty loud already.

On her tippy toes, Star could just barely reach the key pad with her outstretched hand. The password changed every few days, but Star had the feeling it hadn't. She was assured as she punched in the last number; the small three at the very top which strained her shoulder muscles painfully, when the heavy door popped open. And sure enough- there was what she'd been waiting for. Her small mouth broke out into a wide smile as she saw the limp figure lying in the ashy snow a few feet away from the door.

_Marcus…_

***

Blair wasn't taking this as well as she should have. All military members were given a week's recovery time from the loss of a loved one. Blair had never taken one. Not after the death of her friends and family; not of her fellow pilots and teammates. Death was death. No one had a high life expectancy. No one had even a decent one. It was too short; all too short. But that was life now.

She didn't know him. Not really. She'd only spent a few short days with him. She didn't know his favorite color, his middle name, or if his cropped hair would be curly or straight when it grew out. When she rubbed on red color across her eyelids this morning, she couldn't help but wonder how genetics would make their baby look like; hazel eyes like its mother or blue ones like its father? Maybe a combination of both? Their baby would undoubtedly be tall. Her curly dark hair and his- Ugh.

Blair shook her head and reverted her attention to the landscape soaring past her eyes. It had been days. More than enough time to recover. So why hasn't she?

On the exterior, nothing seemed to be wrong. Blair was the same hard as nails, no-nonsense pilot they all knew. Not even the people close to her, as few of those as there were, could detect any difference in her behavior. In fact, Barnes had attempted to get intimate with her the night after… Skynet, in one of their routine hookups in the dark privacy of her chambers, but before he could lay a hand on her, she had him slammed on his back, his arm popped out of his socket before she haughtily strutted away. Here was the man who was supposedly her beau. Yet he was the one who didn't give one shit about her life as long as it stood in his revenge. He was the one closest to her in this living world. Yet he couldn't read her emotions. The only one Blair suspected knew what she was going through was John Connor himself. And he didn't dare mention anything, perhaps out of guilt.

She really needed to stop thinking of such things. She had the three women she found in the desert in the back of the plane. Their safe arrival at base was most important currently. She couldn't afford to be distracted and attacked in the darkness with three lives in her hand. Ugh. Connor was right, unfortunately. She should have waited until dawn tomorrow morning to start her journey. But she couldn't have let the three women out on their own in such darkness to fend for themselves. It had to be done, and only by her. She didn't want the others to know that yes, she was your stereotypical woman deep down inside. Blair Williams was unfortunately afraid of the dark.

***

Why was he so heavy? Oh, yeah. Because his entire skeleton and internal organs were composed of steel. No wonder. Only a couple more feet until Marcus was completely into the dark hallway, away from the freezing chill of the dark snowy night, where Star shivered and strained with all the strength of her little, eight-year-old body, switching constantly from yanking on his arms, to shoving at his limp chest, until her little arms ached and she was positive she could take no more, but it was okay, because there was only a tiny bit of space left before he-

Oh, shit. Star accidently rammed his metallic leg into the side of the door. Earsplitting sirens erupted throughout the eerily lit hall. She sighed and dropped the arm she had been holding. Well, this was bound to happen eventually. It's better for them to know this way. It would be rather strange for everyone to wake up tomorrow morning and find Marcus unconscious in the hall, now wouldn't it? So she closed the door, blocking out the icy winds and lightly sat on top of the unconscious man's strong chest, waiting.

She didn't have to wait long. Immediately she heard the crash as the door down the hall slammed open and people with what sounded like guns cocking in their hands rushed down. "Who's there?!" she heard someone who sounded suspiciously like Barnes call.

She turned to blink into the flashpoint of a gun someone pointed to her head and smiled brightly. Ah, it _was_ Barnes. The light immediately dropped from her head, but not before Star could see how the owner of the light had his eyes bulging dangerously wide as he took in Star's improvised seating.

"Aw, _shit_."

* * *

I think this is only going to be a one-shot. Going any further in the story would be pointless. But, anyways, I hope you all enjoyed my first Terminator story. :D

Reviews=love


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